


been afraid of changing (but time makes you bolder)

by minimitchell



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Alternate Universe, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Swearing, Past Character Death, Pining, Secret Relationship, Some angst, Strangers to Lovers, football au, footballer!Callum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minimitchell/pseuds/minimitchell
Summary: Suddenly, his behavior on the night they met makes a whole lot more sense to Ben; the apprehension before telling Ben his name, the way he looked like he wanted to disappear in the bar, how he only kissed Ben when he was sure that they wouldn’t be seen.A Premier League footballer in the closet. He just got a lot more intriguing to Ben.
Relationships: Ben Mitchell & Lola Pearce, Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell, Jay Brown & Ben Mitchell
Comments: 33
Kudos: 182
Collections: ballum lockdown





	been afraid of changing (but time makes you bolder)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callumsmitchells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callumsmitchells/gifts).



> this is for the amazing [lucy](http://callumsmitchells.tumblr.com/) for the ballum lockdown gift exchange over on tumblr. i really, really hope you enjoy this, lucy!
> 
> also, a special thanks to [sophie](http://dingletragedy.tumblr.com/), who was kind enough to help me with some of the football stuff.
> 
> as always, thanks for reading. <3  
> (tumblr: minimitchell)

Ben spots him the moment he steps foot into the Albert. The guy’s sitting over at the bar, hunched over like he doesn’t actually want to be seen or like he’s somewhat nervous to be here, big hands wrapped around a bottle of beer. He’s wearing light blue skinny jeans and a grey hoodie and his hair is nicely styled, gelled into a neat quiff. 

Ben didn’t actually come here for a hookup today; he just wanted a quiet drink, that wouldn’t be possible to have at the Vic and he came here because he knew his mum wasn’t working today. But the guy at the bar is fit enough - and Ben knows that he isn’t a regular because he definitely would’ve remembered that face - to warrant a change of plans. 

He makes his way over to the bar and orders himself a beer, only glancing at the guy for a second. He’s already looking back at Ben when their eyes meet for a brief moment and Ben was right, he’s even more fit up close, all nice, blue eyes and neatly kept stubble. Ben only gives him a nod in acknowledgement before turning back towards the bartender, hoping that his usual method of cool disinterest is going to work on this guy as well. 

From the way he’s positioned at the bar, he can see the man trailing his eyes up and down Ben’s body and he has to suppress a grin in response to it, because, _yes_ , he has him. Ben can hear him clear his throat and sees him move just a bit closer to him in his periphery, but he doesn’t make any moves to start a conversation. 

After a moment, Ben takes pity on him, turning his head and catching the man’s gaze again. He looks caught out for a moment before giving Ben a timid smile. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” 

He doesn’t offer more and normally, Ben would take that as a sign that he’s not interested after all, if it weren’t for the man’s eyes travelling over his body again, settling on the way his shirt stretches over his chest – he knew it was a good idea to wear it today. 

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun.” 

He huffs out a quiet laugh, looking at the ground. Ben doesn’t normally dig shy blokes, but they’re definitely better than the guys who are overconfident and think that they can get anyone. Besides, he has the slight feeling that the guy isn’t actually shy at all. In fact, he thinks that there’s a lot more to him; that there is definitely some fire hidden behind the stolen glances and careful reservation. 

It intrigues Ben to no end and he really wants to unravel the guy and make him lay all these hidden layers bare. If only for one night. 

“Getting there.” 

The words are accompanied by him tilting the neck of his beer bottle in Ben’s direction and he understands the request between the lines of the gesture loud and clear. 

“Let me get you another one then.” 

Ben motions for the bartender and orders another beer for the guy, his own still barely touched. 

“Thanks…” 

He’s clearly waiting for Ben to introduce himself and a part of him, the part that’s always on the move and doesn’t dare to settle down with anyone anymore, wants to tell him that name’s aren’t important tonight, but the guy’s eyes are more genuine than most of Ben’s usual hookups are in their entirety and he finds himself desperately wanting to know the blokes’ name as well. 

“Ben.” 

He thinks about sticking his hand out for a handshake, but that seems way too formal for what they’re both clearly after tonight. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t offer his either, just nodding his head in acknowledgement instead. He seems to hesitate for a second, almost like he’s contemplating giving Ben a fake name or no name at all, before he lets out a barely noticeable sigh. 

“I’m Callum.” 

It seems like he’s squaring up for something for a moment, his shoulders tense and his jaw set, but his posture relaxes when Ben just holds his own beer towards him as a cheer. Callum clinks the neck against Ben’s, but doesn’t retract the bottle immediately. Instead, he keeps their beers tilted together, holding Ben’s gaze. It’s heated and Ben can see the interest clear as day in Callum’s blue eyes, his own probably reflected just as clearly. 

They’re still looking at each other while taking a swig from their respective beers and Ben really appreciates the way Callum’s throat moves as he swallows down the liquid, can’t wait to put his mouth there hopefully soon. 

“So, _Callum_. What do you do?” 

He isn’t actually too interested in the answer. There’s not much he can say that would turn Ben off of him to be honest and they’re not here to get to know each other anyway. Hell, he bets they’ll never see each other again after tonight. 

“Does it matter?” 

There’s no hesitation in his voice and Ben revels in the sudden surge of confidence in Callum. It’s already a different layer to the man in front of him and it’s unbelievably hot. It also confirms to him that Callum is also interested, not bothering with any details and ready to get to the good part. 

“Fair enough. I live close by, you know.” 

“Convenient.” 

Ben pushes his bottle away from him and gets up from the stool. He doesn’t bother to check whether Callum is following him or not, he knows he is. He’d be mad to refuse the clear invitation Ben has just laid out to him and when he hears the scraping of a chair against the floor followed by the feeling of someone pushing up close to him, he has to look at the grimy floor to hide his grin. 

They’re silent while exiting the building and turning left, Ben choosing the quicker way towards his home that coincidentally leads them through a dark alley. The moment they step out onto the black, unlit backstreet he feels an insistent hand tugging at his elbow, letting himself be spun around and pressed against the brick wall of a long-closed convenient store. 

There’s something strangely intoxicating about Callum right now - maybe it’s the fire and unfiltered want shining in his eyes now that they’re away from any prying eyes. He doesn’t dwell on it for too long though, getting distracted with the feeling of soft yet firm lips pressing against his own. Callum’s tongue is hot and hungry as it enters Ben’s mouth and he lets out a quiet moan in response. 

He likes kissing Callum; it’s often only a means to an end for Ben, a necessary part of foreplay to get to the really good part, but kissing Callum is different somehow. His mouth is hard and pressing, taking what he needs from Ben, who’s more than willing to let him have it. But he’s also making it good for Ben; doing these little things that draw noises from the back of his throat again and again, pressing his thumbs to the hinges of his jaw to change the angle, biting at his bottom lip and soothing the sting with his tongue. 

If it’s any indication for how he is in bed, then Ben has a very interesting night ahead of him. 

***** 

He wakes up alone. And it’s not like that’s not his preferred way, slinging someone out the next morning is always so tedious and he can really do without them telling him what a heartless asshole he is, so he isn’t sure why he feels a little disappointed. Maybe it’s because the sex with Callum was phenomenal, the best he’s had in a while he’s loath to admit, and he wouldn’t have said no to another round in the morning. 

Instead, he’s sitting in his mum’s café, trying and failing spectacularly at not thinking about last night. Ben hadn’t been wrong with his assumption that there’s more to Callum than meets the eye. He was intense and focused, just like Ben likes it, but never not gentle. Ben discovered in the shower this morning that Callum had left an array of love bites on his chest and finger-shaped bruises on his hips and the discovery has only encouraged his thoughts drifting back to Callum every other minute. 

It’s stupid, really. Because there’s no way they’re going to see each other again. They hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers and Ben isn’t desperate enough to go back to the Albert night after night in the hopes of meeting Callum again. Plus, the fact that he hadn’t even stayed the night tells Ben enough about any possible intention of seeing each other again. 

Ben’s not the type for meeting hookups for a second round anyway. He has strict rules against that in fact. No second times. No getting attached. 

He’s interrupted from his thoughts about last night by the arrival of Jay, who throws himself into the empty seat at the opposite side of the table, a cup of coffee in his right hand. He heaves a dramatic sigh and Ben already knows from the look on his face that he won’t like what Jay’s about to tell him. 

“I need a favor.” 

An audible groan escapes his mouth at the words, because knowing Jay he can already guess what kind of favor it’s going to be and he doesn’t like it one bit. It’s always something Ben would rather not do like working alone at the car lot while Jay’s off on holiday, having lunch somewhere outside because him and Lola are occupying the office or going somewhere he has no interest in going just because Jay asked him to. 

Ben lets out a sigh and resigns himself to his fate. 

“What is it?” 

Jay hesitates for a moment and the look on his face is so serious that Ben almost thinks he’s going to ask him for a kidney or something equally as profound. Turns out, he’s not too far off. 

“You need to come to this football game with me.” 

Ben begins shaking his head immediately, not bothering to hear anything else than that. 

“No, Jay. Absolutely not.” 

There’s nothing he wants to do less than go to a bloody football game with Jay. He’d actually rather donate a kidney than visit any type of sporting event. He has never liked sports, not even at school, and he’ll fully play into the stupid stereotype that gays aren’t into any other type of balls than the obvious ones. 

Going to see a football game with Jay sounds like his own personal nightmare. 

“Please? Billy was supposed to come with me but he’s on holiday with Honey and the kids. Come on, I spent a fortune on those tickets.” 

“Then take Lola.” 

Ben knows it’s a moot point, Lola hates football just as much as he does and if there’s one thing Jay would never do it’s force Lola to go somewhere, she doesn’t want to. Unlike with Ben apparently. 

“Ben, please. I’ll do all your paperwork for a month.” 

It’s a tempting offer but Ben is a business man through and through and he’s certainly not going to let this opportunity go by without at least doubling his profits. 

“Two months. And _I_ get to sell that old Porsche we just got in.” 

Jay deliberates for a moment, obviously trying to weigh out whether not having to go to the game on his own is exceeding the loss of an undoubtedly hefty commission, before he shakes Ben’s already outstretched hand, sealing their deal. 

“You know, if you weren’t my brother, I would seriously hate you.” 

Ben only gives him a satisfied grin, taking a triumphant sip of his own coffee. If he’s going to be bored out of his mind while sitting in a stupid stadium and watching a bunch of blokes running after a ball, he’ll at least do it after making some serious cash. 

Jay claps him on the shoulder and picks up his mug, already halfway out the door and on his way to their office. 

“Love you too, bruv.” 

He laughs as Jay flips him off in passing and he’s secretly thankful for having been, at least temporarily, distracted from thoughts about Callum and their night together. 

Even if it means having to sacrifice a day off to go to some boring football game. 

***** 

Walford United’s home stadium is packed to the brim with people chanting and screaming, even though the game hasn’t even properly started yet. Ben guesses the fortune Jay had spent on the tickets stems from the fact that they’re in seats close to the pitch, though Ben thinks it was a waste of money either way, considering that he still has to look at the big screens on the side to actually see anything that could happen on the grass. But that could very well just be down to his overall shitty eyesight. 

He doesn’t really see the appeal yet. There’s cheap beer in his plastic cup that he’d rather drink in a quiet pub and rowdy middle-aged men with painted faces beside him that haven’t stopped screaming at each other since they’ve sat down. Jay nudges him with his elbow a couple of times and Ben tries to feign that he’s having at least a decent time, not wanting to ruin Jay’s excitement, but he’s seriously contemplating whether it’s too early to slink off to the bathroom for a while. 

Instead of doing just that, he’s pulling out his phone from his jacket pocket and thumbs through his Grindr notifications, although he’s not even that keen to be honest. The two blokes he’s hooked up with this past week had been painfully mediocre and he doesn’t think he can endure another guy that makes him long for the way Callum had fucked him well over a week ago at this point. It’s straight up ruining everything Ben had considered fun before and he resolutely hasn’t searched for Callum on Grindr, because that would just be pathetic and Ben certainly won’t turn into one of those desperate guys running after a one-night stand that doesn’t even think about them anymore. 

Jay starts clapping next to him and Ben looks up just in time to see the players walking onto the pitch, the two team captains meeting in the middle. 

“At least they’re wearing shorts so I have something to look at.” 

Jay only snorts in response, long used to Ben’s innuendos in the well over ten years they’ve known each other. The older man next to Ben on the other hand lets out a sneer, giving Ben a disgusted look which he only answers with a wink, because riling up bigots is always fun for him. 

He continues to watch the big screen nearest to their seats with disinterest, only vaguely understanding what’s happening, when the camera pans over the Walford United players and a very familiar face pops into view. 

Ben thinks it’s a mirage for a second, an illusion his sexually frustrated brain came up with to rub some salt in the wound, but he’s there. On a 33 feet screen, all clear, blue eyes and big ears. Ben can feel his mouth dropping wide open in surprise because if there’s one thing he didn’t expect to see today, it’s the hookup that has been living rent free in his head for the last two weeks. 

Callum doesn’t look much different from the last time he’s seen him, apart from the unfortunate lack of naked skin and fucked-out look. He’s still wearing his hair in a neat quiff, though a few strands are already coming loose, falling into his face. Ben has seen that happening about ten centimeters from his face and the realization makes something hot settle in the pit of his stomach. 

On the pitch, the referee blows his whistle and the game starts, players starting to run after the ball, but Ben is still too caught by surprise to do anything but follow Callum’s every move with his eyes. 

Suddenly, his behavior on the night they met makes a whole lot more sense to Ben; the apprehension before telling Ben his name, the way he looked like he wanted to disappear in the bar, how he only kissed Ben when he was sure that they wouldn’t be seen. 

A Premier League footballer in the closet. He just got a lot more intriguing to Ben. 

“Hey, who’s number 9?” 

Jay gives him a brief glance, completely enraptured by the game going on for some reason Ben still can’t comprehend, eyes roaming the field for the player in question. 

“Oh, that’s Callum Highway. He transferred from Blackburn at the beginning of the season. He’s pretty good, three goals in the last four games. Why do _you_ care all of a sudden?” 

He turns to give Ben a dubious look, lifting one of his eyebrows inquisitively. Ben gives him a shrug in response, hoping to ease any suspicions that could arise. The last thing he wants to do is out the poor guy; it doesn’t matter that Jay would never gossip about something like this, it simply isn’t his secret to tell. 

“I don’t. Just ain’t seen him before, is all.” 

“He passed up on a nice sum of money for starting a week later than planned as well.” 

Ben tilts his head at Jay’s words when he doesn’t elaborate further. He has to admit that Callum seems even more intriguing than he first suspected and he proves to be a bigger enigma with every detail Ben learns about him. And he’s never met a mystery he wasn’t dying to solve. 

“Why didn’t he?” 

“Don’t know. Didn’t feel up to it I think, after one of his teammates died in an accident. Think he stayed behind for the funeral. Don’t you ever read the news?” 

Ben ignores the quip in favor of going back to looking at Callum. It’s obvious that he’s completely in his element and Jay is right, he _is_ good. Granted, Ben isn’t exactly the expert on judging athletes, but even he can see that Callum is quick and sure, controlling the ball with an ease that must come from years of practice. 

He wants to quiz Jay on what else he knows about Callum but then the man in question passes the ball to the other striker, who manages to make the goal and everyone around Ben jumps up in celebration. Callum’s smile is bright and happy on the screen as the camera catches him congratulating his teammate and Ben finds that for some reason, he likes the way his face looks like now even more than when he’s a second away from coming his brains out. _Huh_. 

Ben spends most of the game watching Callum, transfixed with the way his thighs bulge in his little football shorts, and he’s trying hard not to think about the fact that he had these exact thighs wrapped around his body only a couple of weeks ago. 

It proves to be extremely difficult not to. 

***** 

The signed piece of paper indicating a successful sale of the Porsche should probably fill him with way more happiness than it currently does. But ever since the day Jay had dragged him to that game, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Callum – not that he was particularly successful about that before then. 

But now there’s this constant nagging intrigue in the back of his brain, that only flares up stronger every time Jay makes a comment about the team or even Callum in particular. It proves to be a bigger distraction than he could’ve have anticipated and frankly, it’s more than annoying to Ben. Because he can’t seem to concentrate on anything for too long before his mind starts drifting to blue eyes, big hands and strong thighs. Not even a lucrative deal like this one can shift his thoughts away from the man. 

Ben knows he shouldn’t do it, that it’s a dangerous road to go on, and he actually feels like he’s doing something he’s not supposed to be doing when he brings up the Google homepage and types in Callum’s name. 

There’s a Wikipedia article about him that doesn’t give Ben much information other than the fact that he’s originally from the East End as well, has been playing football since he was a little kid and a lot of football stuff he doesn’t really understand. Nothing about his personal life though, not even a mention of family or any partners. 

He clicks through a couple of articles that focus entirely on his achievements in football and they only reinforce Jay’s comment at the game. Callum is good. That seems to be the universal opinion on him by the press anyway, a former diamond in the rough that worked his way into the Premier League without any hiccups or scandals. He’s being described as a very private person again and again, with very limited social media presence and few appearances outside of team events – Ben wonders how he manages to keep his private life so completely hidden let alone find discreet people to shag with, he can’t exactly see many nights at local gay bars for Callum. 

There are a few pictures where Callum’s being accompanied by a pretty redhead and Ben almost feels bad for the poor girl being used as a beard before the caption on the photo informs him that she’s just his manager, Whitney Dean. Other than that, there are no reports of any romantic partners in his life so at least he isn’t one of those closeted public figures hiding behind an alibi wife and kids. 

Ben really wishes it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does that he can’t find out anything else about Callum. Maybe if he was one of those footballers, who share every aspect of their lives online, he wouldn’t be stuck in Ben’s head anymore. But unfortunately, he isn’t and that just adds to the general mystery he presents. He doesn’t even know what exactly he wants to find out about Callum, tries not to listen to the little voice in the back of his head whispering _everything_ , and in hindsight, Ben really isn’t proud of his next move. 

But the resolve forms after looking away from his computer screen and catching sight of his car keys dangling on the hook beside his desk – like a beacon of light almost begging him to follow through with the idea currently forming in his head. 

***** 

Ben isn’t quite sure what possessed him to do this, but he finds himself in front of Walford United’s training grounds only an hour after his little research session, waiting for the players to filter out of the building. He went as far as to check their training schedule, wanting to make sure that he can see Callum as soon as possible to finally put an end to the mess in his head. 

Once the clock hits four o’clock, he keeps watching as more and more players leave the building and walk out to their cars in the car park, joking and hollering things to each other. He feels a little bit like some grimy stalker, sitting in a car outside the gates to a football training center and waiting for a guy he’s hooked up with once, but he has the inkling that Callum wouldn’t really appreciate it if he just showed up at the gates asking for him. 

It doesn’t take long for Callum to walk out of the building, big gym bag slung over his shoulder. He’s wearing joggers and a white shirt, hair flat on his head like he has just taken a shower, and Ben can’t describe the look as anything other than soft – he has the weird need to reach out and touch him. 

Ben chooses the moment when Callum is about to reach his car parked near the gates to get out of his own vehicle, heading towards the fence that’s separating them. There’s no one there but them – apart from the security guard standing near the door to the building. 

“Callum!” 

Callum’s head whips around so fast Ben thinks it must have hurt, his eyes comically wide and mouth dropping open in surprise when he catches sight of Ben in front of him. He’s standing in stunned silence for a moment, gaze firmly set on Ben, before he jumps into action again, looking around the car park to see if anyone else is there to witness their exchange. 

“What are you doing here?” 

His voice is shaky and it’s the first time Ben realizes how stupid it probably was for him to just show up here out of the blue. 

“I...” 

Ben’s stammering because, to be completely honest, he doesn’t actually know what made him look up the address to the training center and drive over here. It seemed like a good idea when he was sitting at his desk at the car lot, but now that he’s actually here in front of a very scared-looking Callum he’s not so convinced anymore. 

“Not here, please! Let me get my car, okay?” 

Ben nods numbly, watching as Callum opens his car door with shaky hands and gets in. He seems to sit idly in the seat for a second before turning on the engine and pulling his car out of the spot it was parked in, driving towards the gate. Ben keeps watching him while he swipes a card against a monitor and drives through the now-opened gates. 

For a moment, he thinks that Callum will just drive past him and leave him standing on the sidewalk, but he slows down a few steps in front of Ben, pulling into the parking bay just behind Ben’s own car. 

He makes no move to exit his Mercedes and Ben takes this as an invitation to get into the vehicle with him, shutting the door as soon as he’s settled in the passenger seat. Callum isn’t looking at him, just staring at his hands clutching the steering wheel, knuckles white from force. 

Ben wants to say something, explain what he’s actually doing here, but Callum preempts him; his voice small and barely audible even in the absolute silence inside the car. 

“How much do you want?” 

The question blindsides Ben to say the least, but he realizes, the feeling making him sick to his stomach, that of course this is what Callum thinks must be happening. A guy that turns up after figuring out that he’s hooked up with a closeted Premier League player is the blueprint for a successful blackmail. A lucrative one as well if what Ben’s read about Callum’s transfer fee is true. 

It leaves a bad taste in his mouth though, to think that Callum believes he’s able to do something like this. That he would willingly subject someone to the pain of potentially being outed against their will, but he has to remind himself that Callum doesn’t actually know him at all and that he doesn’t know that Ben would never mess around with something like this. 

He’s so occupied with the horrible cognizance of the situation that he only notices Callum’s distress when his breathing is already erratic, coming out way too quickly for it to not lead to a full-blown panic attack in a second. Ben isn’t sure if he can touch Callum to calm him down without making everything ten times worse, but he reaches out anyway, unclenching both of Callum’s hands from the wheel and holding them in his own. The shift in position forces Callum to turn towards Ben a bit more, although he’s steadfastly avoiding Ben’s eyes, gaze downcast to the console separating their seats. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry. That’s not why I’m here, okay. I promise.” 

It takes Callum a moment to calm down again, Ben rubbing his thumbs soothingly over the back of Callum’s hands, still firmly held in his own. 

“What are you doing here, Ben? How did you even find me?” 

Callum sounds tired, exhausted even, and Ben feels even worse about coming here now. He should’ve just gone home and tried to forget about Callum by going out on the pull a few more times, not getting into his car and showing up in front of Callum unannounced. 

“My brother dragged me to this football game. Was proper surprised to see you on the pitch.” 

Callum scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t actually believe that this is happening. 

“I gotta say, it’s pretty ballsy of you to visit a gay bar in the middle of Walford – no pun intended. You do that a lot?” 

His face is still turned towards the nice leather in between their bodies, but Ben can detect a little smile fighting its way onto Callum’s face. It lifts Ben’s mood quite a bit to see the corners of his mouth lift up again; it’s a way better look on him than distress. 

He’s also relieved that Callum doesn’t seem to be too irritated by his presence anymore, maybe even forgiving him for turning up without a warning and scaring him half to death. He doesn’t know why that’s so important to him, but he feels a bit lighter knowing that Callum isn’t bothered being in his vicinity right now – for some unknown reason it matters to Ben. 

“No. And my manager already chewed me out for it, so don’t you start as well.” 

When he finally meets Ben’s eyes, they’re bright and clear, something unfamiliar shining back at Ben. Callum’s hands are still radiating warmth from where they’re clasped in his and the setting sun bathes everything in a golden glow, creating a stark contrast with Callum’s blue eyes. It almost makes him seem godlike in the light; a temptation Ben can hardly resist, sent straight from heaven to test him. 

“So why all this secrecy? It’s 2020, just be who you are, who cares?” 

Ben knows that it isn’t fair of him to say it, can tell from the way Callum’s jaw clenches and his fingers grow rigid in his hold, but it bothers him that Callum can’t and won’t be honest about who he is. That he’s had to read articles today speculating about his private life, that Callum needs to find elusive ways to hook up with people he’ll never see again. He can’t understand how Callum could willingly subject himself to all this secrecy. 

“You can’t be gay in football, Ben. It would cost me my whole career. No one’s putting a gay player under contract.” 

“Out football players exist, Callum. Even I know that.” 

Ben isn’t too well-versed in gay athletes but he knows that there are at least _some_ out players at this point. He’s pretty sure that there’s even a specifically gay football club here in the UK. 

“None of them play Premier though.” 

Callum looks resigned, eyes tired and hooded, like he’s had this exact conversation too many times with himself to know exactly how it’s going to end. Ben can’t help but feel a bit sad for him, because he knows how much better, how much more free, he feels since he came out himself years ago and for some reason, he desperately wants Callum to experience that feeling as well. 

He shouldn’t lock himself away from the world; he deserves to be proud and open about who he is, regardless of the repercussions on his career. Ben firmly believes it, even if he doesn’t actually know Callum that well. He believes that Callum deserves to be happy. 

“But don’t you want to be yourself?” 

Eyes falling shut at the question for a brief moment, Callum slightly shakes his head. When he opens his eyes again, they’re sadder than before, tears gathering at the base and clouding the ocean blue of his irises. 

“Listen, I’m 29. Realistically, I only have a couple of years left to play professionally. If I ever do want to come out publicly, I’ll do it after retiring. I _have_ to.” 

Ben doesn’t know what to say to all this honesty streaming out of Callum; every single possible word getting stuck in the back of his throat. It’s overwhelming, this intense want to reach out and gather Callum in his arms and it scares the hell out of Ben, because he hasn’t felt this almost magnetic pull in so long. Especially not after only one night and one heart to heart together. 

He’s still trying to figure out what to say, how to make this better, make Callum hurt less, when he continues, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill out onto his cheeks every moment now. 

“This is my only chance to do what I’ve always dreamed of, Ben. I started playing football when I was five and ever since then I’ve wanted to play Premier. And I finally got here. I’m not risking that; I _can’t_ risk that. It doesn’t matter what I want, okay. It can’t.” 

His voice breaks on the last word and his pleading eyes are enough to break through Ben’s carefully constructed rules for not acting on his impulses with blokes he barely knows. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s pulling Callum towards him, leaning forward himself to meet him halfway and press a feather-like kiss against the skin of Callum’s cheek, the gear shift pressing uncomfortably into his stomach at their position. 

He can feel the heat of Callum’s skin underneath his lips and Ben could almost happily stay here like this for a while, lips pressed against rough stubble and Callum’s hands squeezing his own in response. But he shouldn’t be here. Callum isn’t his friend and Ben certainly isn’t the right person to give emotional comfort to anyone else. 

The thought makes him lean back away from Callum, although he still stays close to him, entrapped by the golden light reflected on his face and the light blue of his eyes. Callum’s eyes flick down to Ben’s lips and he knows he should lean fully back into his seat - they’re in the middle of the road in front of the very well-known and very public training grounds for a Premier League team and everyone could take a picture of them should they come by - but he’s rendered motionless, his own eyes dropping down to the nice pink of Callum’s lips. 

A shrill ringing breaks the tension between them and Callum springs away from him like he’s been burned, his hands finally leaving Ben’s grip. Ben curses while declining the incoming call – he wouldn’t even begin to know how to describe the situation he’s in right now to Lola. 

Callum seems more composed when Ben chances a quick look at him after pocketing his phone again, eyes no longer full of tears and mouth set in a determined, straight line. It’s a stupid idea that suddenly pops into his head, but Ben has the feeling that he can’t just leave Callum behind after everything he’s shared with Ben just now; doesn’t _want_ to leave things like this. 

Plus, stupid ideas are seemingly his thing today. 

“Let me give you my number. Just- if you ever want to talk about something, anything. I’m here.” 

He knows how lonely it can be when you’re in the closet and for some reason it sends a pang to his heart when he thinks about Callum feeling like he’s all alone. Callum seems reluctant for a moment, almost like he’s still expecting there to be a catch or for Ben to leak his phone number or something, but he nevertheless grabs his phone from the console between them and hands it to Ben, unlocked. 

There’s a picture of Callum and an older, bald-headed man on his background screen but it must be an old photo, judging by the very youthful looking Callum, not yet grown into his features. Ben doesn’t dwell on the picture too long, just opening the contacts and programming his number into them. Their hands brush when he ultimately hands the device back over and Callum lets his hand linger for a moment, darting his pinky out to touch Ben’s with it. 

“Thank you, Ben.” 

His name sounds soft and reverent coming out of Callum’s mouth, so unlike the last time Callum has said it, back when it was all harsh pants and moans, and Ben finds that he likes the way it sounds now even better than he did before. It’s been a long time since anyone has said his name like this and it almost makes him long for it to be said this way again and again by Callum. 

Instead of doing something stupid like leaning forwards and pressing a soft kiss onto Callum’s all too inviting lips, Ben opts for giving him a small smile, reaching for the doorhandle to his left. Callum doesn’t say anything else while Ben steps out of his car, staring out onto the road in front of him rather than looking at Ben. 

All Ben can do is watch as Callum’s car takes off and gets smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing down the road towards the city, his own chest aching with an unfamiliar feeling. 

He chooses to ignore it for now. 

***** 

_‘_ _ur_ _hot_ _wanna_ _fuck?’_

Ben doesn’t think he can roll his eyes any harder than he does right now, throwing his phone into the couch cushions in annoyance. It’s the third guy tonight with a completely unoriginal and downright lazy chat up line and normally, that wouldn’t bother Ben too much – the guy wouldn’t be talking much anyway if Ben had it his way – but tonight it’s just irritating. It doesn’t help that Callum’s face keeps popping into his head whenever he’s about to message a bloke; the way he looked at Ben right after that cheek kiss not leaving his mind. 

It shouldn’t matter to him, he shouldn’t care, but for some unknown reason he _does_. He does care about how pained Callum looked when he talked about his life, about the fear in his eyes when he thought Ben was there to blackmail him and about how resigned he is to lying about who he is for years to come. 

It’s not like he doesn’t know about homophobia in sports, especially in football, of course he does. But it isn’t fair that Callum has to pretend to be someone he’s not, just because professional football is still too backwards and full of bigots to accept people for who they really are. Callum doesn’t deserve that, no one does, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that it’s taking a toll on Callum and his mental health. 

Ben takes a swig out of his beer bottle and has to remind himself again that there’s nothing he can do about it anyway. He’s not going to singlehandedly change the way the league works and Callum may be a past hookup with a backstory, but he’s still just a hookup. Giving him his number was just a precaution anyway; he’d rather not see Callum’s face accompany a tragic headline some time in the future. 

He’s just turning up the volume on the TV when his phone pings with another incoming message. He’s considering to just ignore it and go back to his show, not interested in the slightest in another desperate attempt at a hookup, but curiosity wins out in the end, so he unearths his phone from the pillows and looks at the notification on his screen. 

_Callum:_ _can_ _i_ _come_ _over?_

It’s unexpected to say the least. He didn’t think that Callum would ever actually use his number, no less ask if he can come over, which completely throws Ben for a long moment. He doesn’t know what to answer, doesn’t really know what Callum is after here, and he’s trying to think of the ramifications of potentially sleeping with him again, of breaking his no second times rule. 

In the end, all his careful deliberation doesn’t really matter because he still texts Callum an affirmation anyway. He tries not to mull his decision over but when Callum doesn’t text him again to ask for an address, he’s left with too much time on his hands to question himself. Should he change the sheets? It’s not like anyone but him has slept in them. He’s thinking about cleaning up a little, but he reminds himself that Callum has been here before and that he certainly doesn’t need to impress him. 

He settles on just downing his beer, waiting for Callum to arrive. 

The buzzer rings around thirty minutes later and Ben really isn’t proud of the speed with which he gets to the door. 

He isn’t sure what he expected, but it surely isn’t Callum stumbling up the stairs, Whiskey bottle clutched in one hand and very obviously drunk out of his mind already. Ben is too stunned to say anything, only watching on as Callum comes to stand in front of him on swaying legs. 

“You alright?” 

Ben steps aside to let Callum into his flat, steadying him with one hand on his biceps when he threatens to careen into the little table near the front door. 

He’s leading Callum to the dining table, letting him sit down in one of the chairs while Ben goes to grab a glass of water for him. It won’t do much, he seems way too drunk already for that, but it’s a start. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”, Callum slurs, taking the offered glass but only taking a sip before setting it back down on the table before him. 

“Because you smell like a whole brewery. And that’s not who you are.” 

Callum leans forward to face him and Ben thinks it’s intended to be intimidating, but Callum’s eyes are unfocused and he keeps slightly swaying in a drunken manner. 

“You don’t even know me, Ben.” 

Ben thinks Callum’s about to start crying, his bottom lip wobbling, until he dissolves into a fit of giggles and Ben sighs because he really could’ve done without babysitting a drunk Callum this evening – or ever. He should’ve just messaged one of those desperate guys and ignored Callum’s message. 

He’s about to suggest to Callum that he should just go and sleep it off when the man surprises him by taking Ben’s face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his lips. It takes a moment for him to come to his senses and push Callum away from him – it's been weeks at this point that he’s had these lips on his own and he unfortunately hasn’t forgotten about how good they feel against his – pressing his hand against Callum’s chest and pushing him softly backwards. 

Callum looks confused about his rejection for a moment and his hands slide from Ben’s cheeks down to his chest with the growing distance between them. He tilts his head at Ben, eyebrows knitting together. 

“What?” 

Ben is trying hard not to be irritated, attempting to be as calm and sensible as possible with Callum to make him understand that whatever he came here for tonight, isn’t happening like this. It’s obvious that Callum is upset about something and that he thought getting drunk would make whatever it is better, but Ben is certainly not going to take advantage of his fragile state. 

“You’re drunk, Callum.” 

He looks like he’s about to protest, to assure Ben that he’s perfectly capable of making his own decisions right now, but Ben doesn’t give him the chance, standing up from his place in front of Callum and holding out his hand for him to take instead. 

Ben is sure as hell not going to let him go home in this state, he’s surprised that Callum even found an Uber to take him here to be honest, and he doesn’t know if there’s anyone he could call to take Callum home that wouldn’t ask any questions about who Ben is and why Callum was here with him in the first place. So the only option he has is to let Callum crash here, hoping that he doesn’t have training in the morning. 

Callum takes his hand in surprise, letting himself be pulled out of the chair and down the hallway towards Ben’s bedroom. He obviously must’ve not taken in Ben’s rejection, because Ben feels soft lips trailing down his nape the second they step into the bedroom and it takes all of his willpower to turn around and step away from Callum, occupying himself with taking some clothes and a throw blanket for himself out of the drawers. 

“Come on. You can sleep it off here and we’ll talk about this in the morning, yeah?” 

Callum stays rooted to the spot for a moment, looking at Ben like he isn’t actually taking in his words properly, before he seems to shake himself out of his stupor, stripping off his jeans and shirt. Ben tries to busy himself while Callum takes off his clothes and gets under the covers of _Ben’s_ bed – and that’s another thing he resolutely doesn’t acknowledge. 

Ben regards him for a moment when he’s settled under the pale blue duvet, mostly because he didn’t get the chance to do it the last time Callum was lying in his bed. His eyes are already fighting to stay open and his hair falls into his face with the way he’s positioned on his side. He looks exhausted and Ben gives him a nod and a small smile, ready to go back into the living room and make his own bed on the couch, when Callum calls out. 

“Ben?” 

His eyes are closed now and his voice is so low that Ben actually has to take a step forward to catch what he’s saying next. There’s a pause before he continues, so long that Ben is sure that he’s fallen asleep, until he shuffles a bit, pressing his face even more into the pillow under him. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

Ben looks at him in shock, because _that_ is certainly not what he expected him to say. Callum doesn’t say anything further. In fact, he seems to be fully asleep shortly after and Ben stands in the doorway to his own bedroom for an embarrassingly long time, just looking at Callum’s sleeping form. 

It doesn’t change anything; he keeps saying to himself. Callum isn’t out, Callum is only a hookup, Ben isn’t interested in him like that, Ben isn’t interested in _anyone_ like that anymore. 

But no matter what he does, he can’t forget about what Callum just said. It keeps ringing in his ears while he goes to get Callum’s glass of water to set it down on the nightstand next to him, keeps repeating when he takes out his contacts and his hearing aid and it doesn’t stop when he eventually settles under the scratchy throw blanket on the couch. 

***** 

Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover how Ben feels the morning after. He only got a collective four hours of sleep last night and he isn’t sure whether that’s down to how uncomfortable his couch is or to the knowledge that Callum was sleeping only a few feet away from him in his bed. It unsettles him that he has no idea what will happen once Callum wakes up, if he’ll be embarrassed and pretend that nothing’s happened or whether he’ll even remember what he said yesterday, and Ben has never liked not being in control of a situation. Callum repeatedly makes him lose control. 

Ben startles when he hears the bathroom door - that Callum had disappeared through a couple of minutes before - open again at the end of the hallway and the sound of feet drawing nearer. He looks up from his cup of coffee at Callum stepping into the kitchen, looking as embarrassed as Ben thought he would, cheeks tinted red and mouth in a thin line. Much to Ben’s chagrin he’s still not wearing anything except his boxers and the uncomfortable silence hangs in the air for a moment before Ben takes pity on him. 

“There’s some more water and Aspirin for you.” 

He gestures vaguely to the dining table and Callum nods carefully, sitting down at the table and swallowing the two tablets, washing them down with the water. 

Ben watches him for a moment; the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the action and how his long fingers cradle the glass in his hands. 

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here last night; I don’t know why I did to be honest.” 

Callum’s words from yesterday spring into his head at that – _I can’t stop thinking about you_ – and Ben has a good idea why Callum’s drunken brain decided that Ben’s is the place he should go to. He doesn’t say anything back though, not when he isn’t even sure that Callum remembers his confession. Ben only shrugs in response, sitting down next to Callum at the table with his coffee in hand. 

“You seemed upset. You wanna talk about it?” 

There’s hesitancy in Callum’s face and his hands stutter where they’re tracing the rim of the glass. His face is downcast and he only gives Ben a small shrug after a while, obviously battling with himself and whether he should say anything. It’s not like they haven’t talked about serious things before but Ben gets that it can be hard to talk about one’s feelings. Hell, he’s probably the poster boy for emotional unavailability. 

“It’s just a lot sometimes. Everything.” 

“But drinking yourself into oblivion won’t help. And it’s probably not great for your fitness either. I know you football guys are strict on that.” 

It’s hypocrisy at its finest for him of all people to say anything about using alcohol as a coping mechanism, but Callum doesn’t know that. Callum doesn’t know him at all and Ben has to keep it that way. Otherwise, it’ll only lead to heartbreak. For both of them. 

“I know. I’m not usually like that, you know. I’m sorry if I was out of line.” 

Ben shakes his head lightly, indicating that he doesn’t have to apologize and in a fit of sincerity, he reaches over and grabs one of Callum’s hands in his, letting them sit idly on the table between them. 

“It’s alright. I get it, it must be fucking hard for you to constantly pretend to be someone else. Someone you’re not. I don’t know how you do it to be honest. And I meant what I said, I’m always here if you want to talk. Even if you’re drunk out of your mind and keep trying to kiss me.” 

They share a small laugh, Callum’s sounding much more uncomfortable than Ben’s, and Ben is relieved that the atmosphere between them isn’t as awkwardly charged anymore. Ben would rather they get along if Callum ever were to actually want to talk to him about anything. Maybe they can even become friends, although he isn’t sure if having a very openly gay friend like Ben would somehow taint Callum’s straight reputation. 

“I remember I said something yesterday before I fell asleep.” 

Callum looks nervous as he says it, biting his bottom lip and blowing out a breath like it cost him a lot of courage to say that just now, but he’s holding Ben’s gaze steadily, almost like he’s gauging Ben’s reaction. 

It’d be easy for Ben to say it back, to fall into Callum’s arms and just see where this thing between them takes them and he wouldn’t even lie when he says it back because Callum hasn’t left his mind for long ever since the night they slept with each other, but Ben can’t do that. He shouldn’t do it. There’s a reason he doesn’t see guys a second time and Callum shouldn’t be exempt from that rule just because there’s something about him that draws Ben to him like a moth to a flame. 

Ben clears his throat, standing up to get some distance between himself and Callum. 

“Do you want some coffee?” 

He doesn’t get far though. Callum tugs on their still connected hands to stop Ben from moving too far away from him and it catches Ben off guard, sending him stumbling forward and just about catching himself from falling into Callum’s lap with a steadying hand on the back of Callum’s chair. It brings their faces way too close together, only centimeters apart really, and Callum’s eyes are as captivating as they were the last time they were this close to each other. 

He’s not making any moves to close the little space between them though, only looking at Ben intently and eyes dropping minutely to his mouth, letting Ben decide what’s going to happen next. And where last time Ben’s phone going off interrupted them, there’s now only blissful silence and for once, Ben is helpless to resist the temptation that is Callum under him. 

At the first press of Ben’s lips against his, Callum settles his hands on both sides of Ben’s waist, Ben’s free hand running down Callum’s neck and onto his chest, letting it rest over Callum’s heart. He doesn’t waste much time before deepening the kiss, the fire in his stomach fueled even more by the memory of their night together and his desperation to repeat it. 

Callum’s hands are tightening at his waist and Ben sighs at the action before swinging his legs on either side of Callum’s, effectively straddling him. Callum breaks the kiss to move his mouth down to Ben’s neck and he can’t help but grind down against him at the action, letting out a quiet moan at them brushing together through the thin material of his joggers and Callum’s boxers. 

Ben tugs his face up again to press another kiss onto his lips and he bites Callum’s plush bottom lip as they part again. He gets up from Callum’s lap and grips his wrist with a firm hand to pull him up with him and towards the bedroom. 

“Wait, are you sure?” 

Ben almost laughs because he had completely forgotten that _this_ is what Callum is like. Hot and sure but always checking to see if Ben is okay and still willing. It’s so different from the blokes he usually sleeps with and it’s still just as overwhelming as it was that first time. It makes him feel like he’s safe with Callum, like he’s something precious and important. And it’s too much, too emotional, for a hookup so he assures Callum that yes, he wants this and then distracts him with more kissing, until they fall back into Ben’s bed, ready to get lost in each other. 

***** 

Things between them kind of progress from there and they’re good, _really_ good, for weeks. They spend a lot of time cooking for each other, having a ridiculous amount of sex and they even go out in public a few times – always far away from Walford and careful not to touch each other or seem like they’re involved with each other in any other way if they happened to be photographed. 

Ben would never, ever, admit to himself or anyone else that he’s slowly falling in love with Callum, but he finds himself unable to sleep peacefully when Callum isn’t lying next to him and he catches himself texting him _a lot_. Dirty things because he likes to tease Callum while he’s off training or funny things that happened with Jay or with a punter at the car lot that day. 

Callum in turn tries to get him into football, forces him to watch a few Rovers games with him, that he only endures because he’s being rewarded with more fun activities afterwards, and demonstrates how good of a cook he is on multiple occasions. He’s probably spending more time at Ben’s flat than he is at his own at this point, though neither of them really mentions it. 

So things really are good, but Ben is careful not to put a label on this thing with Callum and he seems fine with that as well, not bringing up the topic of being anything serious either. It doesn’t particularly matter anyway, they’re spending so much time together that they might as well be a couple and Jay and Lola have also picked up on the fact that Ben seems to have a lot less free time all of a sudden, all while being extremely secretive about who he’s seeing or what he’s doing. 

They’re both at Ben’s flat today, Callum lounging on the sofa watching a game, while Ben sits at the dining table trying to catch up on this week's paperwork for the car lot. He’s already regretting that he didn’t bargain with Jay for him to do more than two months' worth of Ben’s paperwork, because he actually forgot how much he hates doing it and how much of a time killer it really is. He’d rather join Callum on the couch, not necessarily for the football but more for the feeling that comes with burrowing himself into Callum’s arms. 

After trying to focus on next month’s budget for another few minutes, he lets out a loud sigh that makes Callum look over at him in amusement, throwing the pen he’s holding down onto the papers in front of him. 

“I think I’m done for today. My brain is fried.” 

Callum chuckles from his place on the couch before standing up and walking towards Ben, coming to a stop behind him. He leans down to wrap his arms around Ben from behind, resting his head on Ben’s shoulder and pressing a quick kiss to the fabric there. Ben can see him scanning the papers and different colored numbers in front of them but judging from the crease that’s forming on his forehead, he can’t make sense of the paperwork spread out on the table. 

“Right. Come with me.” 

There’s a decisive nod from Callum before he untangles his arms from Ben’s frame and moves to the front door, grabbing his trainers from their usual space next to the entrance. Ben is dumbfounded for a second, trying to catch up with Callum’s sudden plans to go out. 

“What? Where to?” 

“I can’t help you with your paperwork. But I _can_ take you somewhere to take your mind off things.” 

He’s holding out Ben’s denim jacket to him, an overly excited look on his face, and Ben is helpless to do anything but give him a confused smile and get up to join him at the door. 

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” 

Ben grabs his boots offered to him by Callum’s other hand, slipping them on his feet and shrugging on his jacket. He makes sure that he has his phone, wallet and keys just in case and turns around to see Callum fiddling with his own car keys, leaning against the front door. He looks completely relaxed and that fact alone leads Ben to guess that they’re not driving somewhere that’s too public, some place where there’s no threat of reporters or fans milling around close by. 

“No. It’s a surprise.” 

Ben doesn’t think he likes the sound of that, not really being a person that’s into surprises and not knowing what’s going on, but Callum distracts him with a kiss and ushers him out the door, leading the way to his car. 

***** 

The relatively short drive takes them to a football pitch on the outskirts of Walford. There’s a row of floodlights on the opposite side of a little stand filled with some old-looking seats and a ratty, green pavilion that obviously functions as a utility shed. It looks like it hasn’t been in proper use for a while now, but it’s not completely abandoned either, probably only home to the occasional match for local teens. 

It’s quiet and lined with thick trees that almost give the impression that they’re somewhere far away from the city and its inhabitants and noise. He thinks he gets why Callum likes it here; this place harbors this strange feeling of anonymity, like you can be completely yourself here because there’s no one around to watch you. 

It feels strangely freeing. Even for Ben. 

“This where you come to train all by yourself?” 

Callum leads him across the track field alongside the grass, the brown pebbles scrunching under their shoes, and towards the seats of the stand. 

“Nah. I found it while driving around one night, just after I moved down here again. I just like how calm it is here. Good for thinking.” 

Ben wonders how often Callum is here. If he’s here when he isn’t with Ben and if so, what type of thinking he does when he’s here. Does he think of Ben? Of whatever it is they are to each other? Probably not. He probably only thinks of strategies and tactics and other football stuff; things that are important to him. 

They sit down onto two of the off-white, plastic seats and Ben silently watches Callum for a moment when they’re settled. He’s just looking around the field, not looking at anything in particular, and he seems so calm and at peace that it also loosens something in Ben’s chest. Callum always has this subtle but permanent aura of tension to him that Ben reckons comes with playing pretend day in and out, so it’s incredibly satisfying to see him this relaxed. It makes Ben wish that he had taken him to this place much sooner, because seeing Callum likes this makes his heart swell and beat a little faster. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

It’s something that’s been on his mind ever since he had first seen Callum at the stadium, back when he had accompanied Jay to that game months ago at this point. It’s been sat in the back of his mind while Callum and him had gotten to know each other, replaced by more pressing revelations like Callum’s ability to cook or how talented his tongue is, but lately it’s come to the forefront again. Because for all the enthusiasm and fondness Callum still has for Rovers, like forcing Ben to watch every one of their games with him, he remains very tight-lipped about his time at the club or that whole period of his life in general. 

“Sure.” 

“Why did you transfer back here?” 

He knows that Callum’s originally from London and he’s pretty sure that a transfer to Walford U meant a spot in a better league and a nice sum of money, but he can’t help but feel like there’s more to it, especially because Jay mentioned a teammate that died. 

Callum obviously didn’t expect the question and he lets out a slow breath, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, wringing his hands together. Ben is about to apologize for overstepping and telling Callum to forget he ever asked, when Callum speaks. His voice is quiet in the dark of the beginning night, but still clear and steady. 

“I needed a change. One of my… teammates died in a car crash and everything there reminded me of him. The offer from Walford just came at the right time and I did always dream of playing in the Premier League. I think I would’ve been happy to stay there for the rest of my career if Walford hadn’t asked, but my manager convinced me that it’d be the perfect time for me to go.” 

Ben is nodding his head carefully, trying not to spook Callum into stopping, now that he’s finally opening up to Ben about this. He can tell that it takes a lot of courage for Callum to talk about this and it’s impossible for Ben not to feel honored that Callum trusts him enough to tell him this. It makes his stomach flip with something he hasn’t felt in years and it’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore how Callum makes him feel this way again and again. 

“Were you and him…?” 

He didn’t miss the pause before Callum described the guy as a teammate and as a gay man, Ben knows that pause all too well. 

“We used to be. We weren’t for a long time anymore.” 

Ben nods in understanding, although Callum still hasn’t turned around to face him again and can’t see the action. He understands, probably more than most people unfortunately, how hard it is to talk about this and he appreciates Callum’s honesty even more now. 

“Was it serious?” 

Callum sighs and finally turns towards him, a sad smile on his face. Ben can’t stop himself from reaching out and taking Callum’s hand in his, threading their fingers together in a strong hold. Callum looks thankful for the gesture, squeezing Ben’s hand in return. 

“As serious as it can be when you’re both hiding all the time.” 

He lets his head hang low and it breaks Ben’s heart a bit to see him look so defeated, because even though Ben’s first and only real love was taken away from him so untimely, he at least got to experience actual love while being out and proud. And Callum never got to feel that. 

It makes something fierce settle in his chest, something that beats against his ribcage and threatens to claw its way out of his mouth, ready to spill words he’s always kept so close to his heart. Words that are too grand and meaningful for what he tells himself Callum and him are. 

“Thank you, for telling me. I know how hard it must be.” 

Callum doesn’t respond, instead he uses the hand that’s already clasped in his to tug Ben forward, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. Kissing Callum still hasn’t lost its spark; it still lights a fire inside him in the best way possible and Ben really doesn’t want it to stop any time soon if he’s being completely honest with himself for a change. 

He threads one of his hands into the fabric of Callum’s black shirt, keeping him close, the other coming to rest on the taught skin of his neck, right above the rainbow neckline of his shirt. They exchange two or three more kisses with each other, just enjoying their unhurried glide of lips, before Callum leans backwards just enough to rest his forehead against Ben’s. 

They sit like that for a minute or two, nothing but a few crickets chirping in the distance and the unfiltered blue of both of their eyes between them. He doesn’t understand why, but Ben’s heart is in his throat, beating so loudly that Callum surely must be able to hear it as well, being that close to him. 

They share a small smile with each other, one that looks suspiciously loved-up to Ben, and he can’t stop himself from placing another peck onto Callum’s lips, grinning up at him afterwards. 

“You gonna show me some tricks now, star footballer?” 

Callum lets out a bright laugh at that, his head tilting upwards and eyes crinkling together. It reminds Ben of how Callum looked like when he celebrated that first goal Ben saw him assist with at the stadium and there’s this warmth in his chest again at the memory, spreading through him like a wildfire. 

Ben keeps watching him while he’s explaining tricks and showing off, the grin on his face awfully bright and his chest painfully tight. 

***** 

Ben reckons what goes up must come down at some point. And by the way things between them have been going up for several months now, he’s not surprised that when they’re crashing down, they’re doing it full force. 

He’s just stepping into his flat after a quick grocery run so him and Callum can start their evening plans of cooking dinner and a movie, throwing his keys into the bowl by the door and shrugging off his jacket. 

Callum’s sitting at the dining table, his back turned to Ben, untouched beer bottle still beside him. He’s holding his phone in one hand while the other is tangled up in his hair, tugging on the brown strands that are still loose from the shower they took together earlier. His shoulders look hard and tense and Ben is a little thrown because he’s pretty sure that Callum was completely relaxed when he left him here not even ten minutes ago. 

At the lack of reaction to Ben’s arrival, he walks towards the table, leaning down to press a kiss to Callum’s forehead. To his surprise, Callum doesn’t lean into the gesture like he normally does, but keeps looking at the black screen of his phone, completely unresponsive. 

“Hey, everything alright?” 

He sets the shopping bags down onto the kitchen counter, abandoning them immediately in favor of sitting down at the table with Callum, even though there’s ice cream in the bag that should really be put in the freezer soon. 

“No. Whitney, my manager, just send me this.” 

He slides his phone forward for Ben to see and he needs a second to piece together what’s in front of him. It’s a thread on some kind of football forum, the title alluding to some deleted Twitter account about a closeted Premier League player. There are only a few replies but one of them mentions Callum’s name and there’s photo of the two of them at a burger place attached, that some fan had posted a couple of weeks ago. The photo is innocuous enough, they aren’t touching or looking like anything but a couple of mates, but paired with some half-baked allegations it could spell trouble. 

Trouble that Callum and his manager have apparently also identified. 

“Whit is working on taking the photo and the thread down.” 

Ben closes the window and slides the phone back to Callum. He doesn’t really know what to say, doesn’t really see how this is a big deal to be honest. The photo is harmless and the comment itself seems more like a joke than some crazy conspiracy theory, but something tells him that Callum won’t see it that way. 

“Okay. But that’s good, right? That it’s being sorted?” 

“Good? Nothing about this is good, Ben.” 

The look on his face is incredulous, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned. Ben has never seen him this upset before except maybe when he thought Ben was trying to blackmail him. Ben’s really trying to be sympathetic to something that obviously troubles Callum this much, but he really can’t see the problem he’s having. It’s not like there’s concrete proof that the two of them are screwing each other. 

“I don’t understand why though. It’s just one stupid comment on an irrelevant forum.” 

Callum snorts, shaking his head at Ben. He’s standing up from his seat to pace around the connected living room, his hands coming up to cover his face in frustration. 

“Of course you don’t.” 

“Callum, it’s not a big deal, okay.” 

That gets Callum to stop pacing and he’s turning to face Ben open-mouthed. He’s looking at him like he can’t believe that Ben doesn’t understand the severity of these claims and the look fills Ben’s gut with something cold and hard, almost like this is the point where the scales either tip in his favor or completely against him. The thought makes his skin itch and his throat dry. 

“Are you kidding me? This’ll ruin my career, Ben!” 

His voice is shrill, not loud but unsteady, and Ben _knows_ that this is the moment he should back down. The moment he should gather Callum in his arms and reassure him that everything is going to be sorted and alright. But Ben is still Ben and his first reflex has always been to fight back at the person lashing out at him. So he lets go off the things he’s tried so hard to swallow down until now; the things he’s avoided saying to Callum even on the very few bad days. 

“You know what, Callum? I don’t give a toss about your career, okay. Who cares what a bunch of football-fanatic bigots think?” 

He’s out of his seat now too, hands on the back of it to put some distance between Callum and himself. It’s what’s going to break this thing between them, Ben knows it, but he can’t seem to back down. The little devil on his shoulder that looks a lot like self-preservation and self-sabotage mixed together winning out against his heart begging him to shut up. 

He’s never been good at listening to it anyway. 

“You don’t get it, do ya? I’m not like you, Ben. I don’t have a supportive family or great friends or my own business to fall back onto. Football is the only thing I have!” 

Ben doesn’t even think anymore. His head is too full with things he wants to say, stupid and vile things he’s fighting against because Callum doesn’t deserve that, and he blurts out the one thing he wants to hold back so badly, because it means showing all his cards to Callum; being vulnerable and giving the other man the chance to crack his battered heart even further. 

“You’ve got me now, too. Doesn’t that mean something to you?” 

“No!” 

The outburst hangs in the air between them for a moment. Two little letters that immediately close the drawbridge to Ben’s heart again; that make his face harden and his fists clench. 

Callum closes his eyes and when he opens them again his face screams regret. He takes a step forward and closer to Ben, who responds by taking a step back instead, not allowing the distance between them to lessen. He doesn’t try to come closer again, his arms falling to his sides in defeat. 

“Shit, Ben, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” 

Ben can’t do much else but shake his head for fear that he’ll do something stupid like beg for feelings that clearly aren’t there for Callum. He can’t believe he was stupid enough to get caught up in some guy, some damn hookup, just because of a nice smile and some good sex. He has rules against this for a reason, damnit. 

“I think that’s exactly what you meant.” 

He doesn’t give Callum a chance to respond, making his way into the bedroom instead. Callum doesn’t follow him and Ben is thankful for that, because it means he gets to stop to breathe in a lungful of air once he’s in the safety of the room, pushing down on the tears threatening to fill his eyes. 

He spots what he’s looking for immediately. Callum’s big, black sports bag sits idly next to the dresser and Ben only has to grab two or three other clothes of his strewn around the room before making his way back to the living room. 

Callum looks pained when he spots his bag in Ben’s hand, shaking his head when Ben sets it down onto the table and pushes it toward Callum. 

“Ben, please-” 

“This isn’t going to work out. With us. I’m sorry. We’re done.” 

Ben walks straight past Callum to the front door, hand already on the handle. 

“Ben, please, at least let me-” 

“I want you to go, Callum. Now. Don’t come back.” 

They stare at each other for a moment, Callum eyes pleading and Ben’s hard and unrelenting. The tears forming in Callum’s eyes are almost enough for Ben’s resolve to weaken, but all he needs to do is remember Callum’s resolute _No_ to strengthen his decision again. 

“Go!” 

Ben can see that Callum’s hand is shaking while he grabs his bag and phone from the table and Ben only just remembers to fish his car keys out of the bowl behind him, holding them out for Callum to take. He’s not looking at him when Callum stops before him, keeping his gaze locked somewhere to the right so he doesn’t have to look into Callum’s eyes for a last time. Callum lets out a wet-sounding breath when he ultimately steps through the door and at the sound of the door slamming shut behind him, Ben finally lets out a breath of his own, clawing at the door, his jackets hanging beside him, _anything_ to keep himself upright. To keep himself from falling apart. 

***** 

Ben is settled in for a long night of trying to drown his sorrows in alcohol, sitting at the quiet end of the bar so that he’s closer to the bartender. He would’ve normally thought twice about drinking in the Vic, but his sour face had deterred people from talking to him all week, so he’s feeling lucky that no one’s going to bother him tonight either. 

Jay had tried to talk to him about what was going on when he came in to work the morning after ending things with Callum, but Ben hadn’t been in the mood to bare his soul to his best friend. By midday, Jay had given up on fishing for information, getting fed up with only getting grunts and glares out of Ben. 

Lola had come into work the next day prying for the source of Ben’s foul mood and when she hadn’t been successful either, she had even sent his mum to go check on him. Ben had simply stated that everything was fine, but he could tell that his insistence on that didn’t actually placate anyone around him. 

On Friday, four whole days since the incident he resolutely refuses to title as a break up because they hadn’t even been together in the first place, Jay told him to take some time off from work after he had snapped at a potential customer and they had consequently lost out on a very lucrative deal. 

Ben had mouthed a stroppy _fine_ at him and had left, only he didn’t want to go back to his flat and the bed Callum had slept in, the couch they had watched movies on or the dining table that somehow still has the ghost of Callum’s bag sitting on top of it. Everything there just served as a constant reminder that the person he had shared his life with these last few months, wasn’t there anymore. And that he wasn’t coming back. 

That’s why Ben is here in the pub, trying to get so drunk that he can go home and not care about all these stupid memories anymore. He has thought about scoring a hookup, hoping that replacing Callum with a string of new faces will somehow alleviate some of the bone-crushing pressure that’s made a home in his chest, but every time his finger hovered over the app, he just couldn’t bring himself to tap on it and reactive his account. 

Because that would make it final. That would close the chapter of his life labelled Callum once and for all. And even though Ben was the one who called it off and told Callum to go, he can’t seem to do it. 

Instead, he turns to the other thing that could distract him and stop him from feeling worse with every day that goes by. He gets a concerned look from Mick when he orders the third whiskey in an hour, but he thankfully doesn’t say anything, just fills up his glass and leaves him sitting on his own. 

He’s almost halfway through the drink when the doors to the pub open and Jay and Lola walk in, hand in hand and definitely too happy for Ben to tolerate at the moment. He lets out a groan when they both spot him at the bar and when Lola leans in to say something to Jay, he knows that she’s not just going to leave him alone tonight, forever determined to try and act like his own private guardian angel. 

His hunch is confirmed when she makes her way over to him, leaning her elbow against the bar and looking at him expectantly. Ben tries to ignore her and carry on drinking without actually acknowledging her presence, until Lola takes the glass that’s on its way to his lips out of his hand, setting it down just out of his reach. 

“Can you please just tell us what’s going on with you? We’re all worried, you know.” 

He tries to raise his hand to signal for another drink, but Lola darts her arm out and presses his hand back down against the counter. The action earns her an annoyed look by Ben but that doesn’t deter her from raising her eyebrows, silently urging him to talk. 

“I told you, everything’s fine.” 

“Is that why you’re running with a face like thunder all week? Drinking and snapping at everyone who so much as looks at you?” 

Ben closes his eyes in defeat and lets out a long sigh. He isn’t sure why he can’t bring himself to talk to her, he _knows_ he can tell her anything, and it’s not like his head is giving him a break from thinking about Callum anyway, his thoughts still filled with nothing but _CallumCallumCallum_ on repeat no matter what he does. But there’s something holding him back with this. 

Maybe it’s the ever-present need to protect himself from being vulnerable in front of someone else, maybe it’s the fear of her telling him that he’s made a giant mistake he can’t fix now or maybe it’s the apprehension of actually admitting his feelings and thus allowing the pain of losing someone he really cared about to really take hold of him and reach him to the core. 

“If this is about a guy then-” 

“Just leave me alone, Lola. Go back to your date, yeah?” 

It’s stupid, his little outburst. Because Lola’s isn’t dumb and she’s known Ben for far too long now and even though he likes to pretend that she can’t, he knows that she can read him like a book. And snapping at her the second she brings up the possibility that his horrible mood is related to a guy, doesn’t exactly sell the opposite. 

When Ben opens his eyes again, she’s gone. The place she just stood in now unoccupied, his glass of Whiskey back in front of him. He secretly wishes that he hadn’t just done that, because Lola really doesn’t deserve to be the bearer of his bad mood but that’s just how Ben is. Always lashing out at other people to protect himself, even if they only mean well. 

He isn’t surprised when Jay rounds the bar a moment later and sits down next to him, taking the glass of whiskey away from him and replacing it with a tall one filled with water, that he’s brought with him. He doesn’t look like he’s mad at Ben, even though there’s no way that Lola hasn’t just said some unflattering words about him to her boyfriend, he just looks calm and patient, like he’s willing to wait it out until Ben eventually talks to him. 

“I knew there was a bloke, you know. You’ve been a lot happier the last couple of months, bar this week of course, and I barely got to see you outside of work.” 

Ben thinks about denying it, but what’s the point. They already know that there was someone and as long as Ben doesn’t mention any names or anything else about Callum that could give him away, it’s fine. Maybe actually saying that it’s over and done with now is the thing that’ll finally get Callum out of his head for good. 

“Emphasis on was. There _was_ a guy. Not anymore.” 

“And now you’re moping about it.”, Jay says like it’s a matter-of-fact. 

Ben shakes his head, pointing a finger at his best friend. 

“I’m not moping. I was the one who ended it, alright.” 

Jay sighs like he can’t actually believe he has to deal with Ben on a regular basis. Ben would take offense to that if he wasn’t so preoccupied with different things at the moment. Distinctly Callum-sized things. 

“Maybe it was the wrong thing to do when you’re this cut up about it.” 

It strikes a chord in him. Not because he knows that Jay ultimately only wants Ben to be happy and would say anything to achieve that, but because he thought that exact same thing as well. He had done nothing but doubt himself and his decision to chuck Callum out without letting him explain his side all week, without trying to figure out a way to work things out. 

He has tried to avoid looking up any football news this past week, not particularly interested in and more than a little afraid of seeing a completely unbothered Callum staring back at him from some article or photos, but judging by the lack of football talk coming from Jay at work, he can guess that the forum thing didn’t blow up in Callum’s face after all. 

Ben shakes his head at the thought, trying to remind himself that the problem wasn’t their relationship being a secret but that Callum outright told him that being with Ben would never be worth enough to him. That _Ben_ would never be worth enough to him. 

“How would you know? He could be a total pervert for all you know.” 

Jay only scoffs, knowing better after well over a decade of being friends with Ben than to take the bait and allow Ben to downplay his own emotions like this. 

“Because I know you, Ben. And I know what you’re like when you like someone, I mean really like someone, and I get the feeling that you really like this guy.” 

Ben takes a sip of the water in front of him. Not because he particularly wants to sober up right now, but because it gives him something other to do than think about what Jay just said. Because deep down he knows that he’s right. He really likes Callum and he really liked how Callum made him feel every time they were together. 

“It don’t matter what I feel, okay. He don’t feel the same anyway.” 

He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. He doesn’t even want to think about Callum or his feelings or anything pertaining to this mess any longer. It hurts more than he’d ever admit to himself let alone to Jay that Callum doesn’t seem to want him the way that Ben wants _him_. 

It’s too much and he can’t do anything to stop it but get up from his stool and walk out of the door, leaving Jay behind at the bar without another word, desperately trying to hold together the crackling walls around his heart. 

***** 

It takes two days of sulking and pretty much all of Walford’s beer reserves before Ben is ready to go and see Lola and Jay to finally talk about this thing with Callum and how he feels about it. It didn’t help that he found one of Callum’s shirts yesterday while trying to do the washing, which tugged even further on his weakening resolve to stay away from Callum. 

It’s why he’s here now, furiously ringing the bell to Jay and Lola’s flat, because he just needs someone to tell him that he’s made the right decision and that he’ll get over this whole thing if he just gives it some more time. He’s not sure if his best friends are the right people for that, seeing as they’re always rooting for Ben to finally find someone again who makes him happy, but they’re incidentally the only two people in his life that Ben would ever willingly talk about his feelings with. 

Lola doesn’t seem surprised when she opens the door and sees Ben standing on her front porch. All she does is smile at him and pull him into the flat, one hand on his arm while she presses a kiss to his cheek. Ben leans into it for a second, already feeling better in the one moment he’s spent here than in the entirety of the last week. 

“Thank god you’re here. Maybe _you_ ’re able to get Jay to calm down.” 

“Why? What’s going on?” 

Jay isn’t exactly the type of person to be anything less than calm and collected, which normally makes him the perfect balance to Ben’s often way too impulsive behavior. So to hear that he’s that angry is so far out of the ordinary that Ben tilts his head at her in surprise. Except, _oh_ , it’s about- 

“Something to do with football.” 

She almost has to physically push Ben through the hall and into the living room, because if Jay is that mad about football it can only be down to one team and Ben has tried really hard to avoid that particular heartache today. 

Jay is sitting on their couch, the television playing some program with people discussing today’s football games playing in the background, a bottle of lager standing abandoned on the coffee table before him. Ben only just catches a glimpse of the name _Callum Highway_ flashing across the screen and he averts his gaze immediately, focusing on Jay’s outraged face instead. 

“Alright?” 

His best friend looks at him like he’s grown a second head, almost like he can’t comprehend how Ben can even ask him that right now – as if Ben had ever given a toss about his football moods or kept up with any game schedules before. At least not before Callum. 

“Alright? Nothing’s alright?” 

Ben doesn’t want to ask; he _really_ doesn’t want to ask why. Because he can gather from the news still flittering on the TV that whatever has got him in such a strop will most definitely have something to do with a certain tall footballer, he’s very much trying to forget right now. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he has to sit through a whole conversation about Callum, getting increasingly heartbroken, all while trying not to comment on how much he misses seeing Callum laugh or hearing his awful snoring at night. 

His silence must serve as an invitation for Jay to explain why exactly he’s in such a mood and Ben regrets not saying something else immediately to stop him going on. 

“You know that transfer I told you about before, Highway, right? Well, today he messed up every shot, every pass. Don’t know what was up with him today, but it probably cost us the lead. We really needed those points. Fans are _not_ happy with him, let me tell ya.” 

Ben tunes out the rest of Jay’s rant about tables and goal differences and ranks, his mind focused solely on the fact that Callum was apparently so distracted that he completely threw the game. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous and think that Callum’s disastrous performance today is down to him and them breaking up, but his wishful thinking combined with the hope he still foolishly carries with him tells him that this is exactly what happened today. 

And if Callum is as cut up about them ending things as Ben is, then that _must_ mean that he misses Ben just as much as he misses Callum. 

Ben tries to reason with himself that it doesn’t matter; that however Callum is feeling or how he’s doing professionally as a result of their breakup isn’t his responsibility anymore, but there’s a lump forming in his throat at the thought of Callum beating himself up about his performance today as well. One more chip on his already heavy enough shoulders. 

It makes him think of the chat they had months ago in Callum’s car when he came to see him at the training center. How sad and resigned Callum had seemed, how he had completely accepted this life void of being himself. It also makes him think of how happy Callum had been these last few months, how bright his smile had become whenever they had spent time together, how carefree he had been in the confines of Ben’s flat, his bed, his life. 

He remembers giving Callum his number because he felt like he really needed someone to talk to and if he’s being completely honest with himself right now, he reckons that Callum must need someone beside him now more than ever. He’s all alone here, no one but his manager to be honest with, and even though it’ll probably rip his heart out to go and see him, Ben feels like he’ll go out of his mind if he didn’t check on Callum right now. 

Before he can even question this spur of the moment decision, he hollers out a quick _sorry_ and _bye_ to both Jay and Lola, the latter trying half-heartedly to stop him and explain what’s going on, digging his car keys out of his pockets and almost running across the square to the vehicle in question. 

He neither has the time nor the headspace to second-guess this overwhelming need to see Callum right now. 

***** 

The floodlights are bathing the pitch in that glaring, white light, making it stand out harshly against the brown track field that surrounds it. Ben parks his car next to the entrance to the pavilion and it almost feels like a punch to the gut to see Callum’s car parked on the other side, because it just reiterates how much he’s come to know him in these last few months, that he knows exactly where Callum goes after he’s had a bad day. 

As suspected, Callum’s the only one there. His bag lies on the edge of the pitch, contents spilling out onto the grass like it’s been carelessly thrown there in a huff, and he’s in joggers and a shirt, a row of footballs lined up in front of the goal and a few more already scattered around it. 

He must not have heard Ben arriving or he’s just pretending that he hasn’t seen him yet, because he keeps kicking the balls towards the goal, cursing when they don’t land where they’re supposed to. 

Ben watches him for a moment while stepping onto the grass and coming closer to him. His hair is unkept like it is after a shower and there are bags under his eyes like he hasn’t had a good night's sleep in days. Ben can relate. 

It tugs at his heart to see Callum so obviously distressed and in pain and he has to remind himself that he was the one who broke it off between them. But feelings don’t exactly follow logical thinking and if there’s one thing he’s admitted to himself in these last few days, it’s that he definitely has feelings for Callum. Deep feelings. 

He knew it was true when Jay tried to talk to him in the pub the other day and he definitely knew it was true when he felt like crying at hearing that Callum screwed up the game today. He’s probably known it every day subconsciously, waking up without Callum in his bed and only feeling numb. 

But knowing that he’s most certainly in love with Callum doesn’t just fix their situation. And it doesn’t magically make everything okay again. 

“Hey.” 

Callum flinches at the sudden interruption, evidently not having noticed Ben coming so close to him and that alone is a good indicator for his mental state right now to Ben, but he only falters slightly, giving Ben a slight nod before kicking another ball towards the goal. 

It lands somewhere in the trees to the right. 

“Heard about the game today. You okay?” 

He doesn’t answer in favor of kicking another ball – there's only two left at this point in the line – towards the goal. It bounces against the right post and rolls away towards the edge of the pitch. Callum lets out a sigh before turning to face Ben. He looks even more exhausted upfront, eyes red-rimmed and lip bitten raw. 

“Yeah, yeah. I mean I let my team down, I tanked our chances at the championship and I screwed everything up with you. But yeah, yeah I’m fine.” 

He doesn’t directly look at Ben, keeping his head lowered and face towards the ground and it breaks Ben’s heart to see him hunched in on himself like this. This isn’t the Callum he’s come to love and he can’t help but feel responsible for it, even though he had a good reason to end it. He reckons it doesn’t matter if you think you’re in the right, in the end it still kills you to see someone you love so clearly hurting. 

Ben wants to say something, wants to make Callum feel better, but he doesn’t know how. He’s tried to rack his brain about what to say on the drive here but he came up empty every time. He didn’t exactly have a game plan when he left Jay and Lola’s flat, just grabbed his keys and made his way to the place he thought Callum would want to be at tonight, wanting to see him and make sure that he’s okay. 

When Callum eventually lifts his head and meets Ben’s gaze, there are unshed tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment now. 

“I’m fucking miserable, Ben. I’m miserable because I messed up the one thing that made me feel good about myself; that didn’t make me feel like a complete phony. And I get why you broke up with me, I get it, but it still hurts. It hurts so fucking much, because, because I’m in love with you.” 

The words hang in the air between them for a moment, nothing but the silence of the night encasing them, conserving them for an eternity. 

They’re on a constant loop in Ben’s head, a constant cycle of _I'm in love with you_ on full volume, replacing any coherent thought he could possibly produce in this moment. Because Callum loves him. Callum _loves_ him. And he’s tried to convince himself for days now that he’s made the right decision and that he’ll get over Callum in time, but the truth is that he loves Callum too. And he’s just as miserable without him as Callum is. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It ain’t fair of me.” 

Ben’s shaking his head vehemently, taking a few long strides to close the distance between them and takes Callum’s face securely in his hands. Callum searches Ben’s face for something, maybe an indication of what’s going to happen, obviously surprised that Ben hasn’t told him already that it doesn’t matter how he feels about him and that they can’t go back to what they were before. 

Instead, Ben brushes his thumbs over the reddened skin under Callum eyes, so tenderly that Callum has to bite his lip to stop himself from letting loose of those unshed tears that are still pooling in his eyes. 

“I’m in love with you, too.” 

Ben barely finishes his sentence before he finds soft lips on his own and hands grabbing at his waist, trying to pull him even closer into Callum’s body. Kissing Callum again just cements how much he missed him these last few days and how foolish he was for thinking that he could ever get over him; could ever forget about how this makes him feel. 

He doesn’t waste much time before deepening the kiss, letting soft groans fill the silence of the night around them. 

He knows that they should talk more, discuss how their relationship is supposed to work if Callum won’t come out, but for now he’s happy to just stand in the middle of a football pitch, bathed in the glow from the spotlights around them, kissing the man he’s so desperately in love with and finally holding him in his arms again. 

The talking is for later. 

***** 

Ben’s only planning to pop into the café for a second, just wanting to grab some breakfast for himself and Callum and then go back to his flat to bury himself in Callum’s arms for the rest of the morning. 

He’s left Callum asleep in bed, because he honestly looked like he desperately needed the rest, especially after last night. They had tried to talk about all the important things after driving back to Ben’s, like how they would be able to reconcile their relationship with Callum’s career or if Callum would consider coming out to the public, but eventually want had taken over and they had fallen into bed together. 

It’s okay though. They love each other, they’re an actual couple now and Ben knows they’ll find a way to deal with everything together. And if Callum doesn’t want to come out publicly for another few years then Ben will learn to live with that situation as well, because if the alternative is a life without Callum, he’ll gladly take hide-and-seek for a while longer. 

His phone is ringing again while he’s waiting for his order to be done and upon checking it, he sees it’s Jay again – he’s already called once just as Ben was leaving the flat– and he declines the call, not really in the mood for finding an excuse for where he went to yesterday or what he’s doing now. They _are_ going to tell his friends about them, they decided as much yesterday, just not now. Ben just wants to revel in his new-found relationship for a little while longer, not wanting to share that with anyone else yet. 

Apparently, he’s out of luck today though because Jay appears in the café not a minute later, clutching his phone in his hand and sighing when he sees Ben at the counter. 

“I’ve been trying to ring you, you know.” 

He’s stepping through the doors right next to Ben, shaking his head at him. 

“I know. What’s up?” 

“You wanna explain this?” 

He’s unlocking his phone and holding it out for Ben to see. It’s an article from the Sun of all things and what he reads makes Ben’s mouth drop open in shock. He grabs the phone out of Jay’s hand and scrolls to read the article in full, somehow thinking that his eyes are maybe just playing a prank on him. But no, it’s there in all caps and in black on white.

_RED CARD! GAY SEX SCANDAL ROCKS WALFORD UNITED_

The article is full of photos of him and Callum together and sure, they’re not too incriminating - there’s pictures of them at restaurants and out shopping and they aren’t touching in any of them - but this is really bad. The article talks about secret meetings and alleged information coming from a secret source within the league and it’d probably be easy for Callum to explain these pictures away and move on with his life but Ben knows him pretty well by now and this’ll no doubt drive him even further away from coming out publicly. 

“You know, the first time you come see a match with me in fifteen years, I didn’t think you’d pull the striker.” 

Ben huffs out a humorless laugh, scanning the article again, for what he’s not even sure. For anything that could give him a solution, a way out of this mess. It’s not fair that they _just_ found their way back to each other and now they have to deal with the fallout of this. 

“I didn’t know he played football at first, alright. God, this is a nightmare.” 

He closes the article and hands the phone back over to Jay. He looks sympathetic enough for the situation, but Ben doesn’t think he really understands the graveness of what’s going on. He just hopes that Callum is still asleep and hasn’t seen the articles yet, but knowing his manager, Whitney has probably already called him in a frenzy. 

“I take it he’s the guy you’ve been seeing lately. What with all the secrecy.” 

“Yeah. Listen, I have to go home and see him. I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

Ben grabs the containers containing their breakfast and tries to push past Jay and head home, when Jay darts his hand out to stop him leaving. 

“Wait, he’s at home? You two back on now?” 

Ben sighs. He really doesn’t have the time to give him the rundown on their relationship right now, too focused on getting home and talking to Callum about what this whole mess means for them and his career. 

“I’ll answer all of your questions later, alright? But right now, I need to get home to Callum.” 

Jay holds up his hands in surrender, effectively allowing Ben to exit the café without another word and letting him make his way back to his home and to Callum. He doesn’t know what’s going to be waiting for him back home and to be completely honest, he’s dreading Callum’s reaction to all of this. Ben doesn’t want to lose him again, not after only getting him back yesterday, but ultimately, it’s Callum’s decision how they’re going to deal with this and how they’re going to respond. 

***** 

Them deciding what to do eventually leads them to the backroom of the team’s press office, waiting for their scheduled press conference to commence. 

By the time Ben had found his way back to the flat, Callum had already talked to Whitney on the phone, with her telling him that this is the moment to decide how the rest of his life and his career is going to pan out. They had talked about it at length, but Callum had ultimately been determined to use this as the opportunity to finally come out, Ben promising him to be beside him every step of the way if that really was his decision. 

It had taken a while to convince the owners of the club that Callum coming out publicly is the best possible outcome and Ben was, for once, happy that they had Whitney fighting in their corner for this, telling the men that addressing the rumors head-on and making Callum the poster boy for how progressive the club is, would be the best possible PR move on their part. 

They had decided to let Callum sit in on their usual pre-game press conference, letting him have his turn to say something when they’d inevitably get asked about the rumors. Whitney had briefed Callum for over three hours the day before on what and what _not_ to say, which questions he should answer and which he should ignore. She had also questioned him about a hundred times if he was sure about doing this but Callum hadn’t budged. 

Callum and him are currently leaning against one of the tables near the doors, Whitney opposite to them typing furiously on her phone, already preparing social media posts and other statements. They’re just waiting on Callum’s coach and his team captain to show up and Callum has been a nervous wreck since they’d had decided to do this only yesterday. He had kicked Ben all through the night and he keeps biting his bottom lip in nervous anticipation. 

Ben wishes he could do more than just trying to be a reassuring presence for him, but he can’t. It’s not up to them what happens after this, but up to the public. The club and Callum’s teammates hadn’t protested against him staying on the team so there’s at least that small victory. Now it’s on the fans and the public to decide if they can accept a gay Premier League player. 

“They’ll be here any minute now.”, Whitney informs them, not looking up from her phone in front of her. 

Callum reaches out to grab Ben’s hand in his, their fingers slotting together effortlessly. He lets out a long breath and Ben has seen him do this before, whenever he’s gearing up the courage to ask for something in bed or when he’s telling Ben something that’s close to his heart. 

“Will you come with me? Not up there but in the room?” 

It’s not what Ben expected and he’s too stunned for a second to even give an immediate response. It’d be a very clear statement to have Ben in the same room while Callum comes out and it’d definitely confirm the rumors immediately if the reporters saw him in there with them. Ben wasn’t sure if Callum is ready for such a serious commitment before, seeing as their relationship is still so relatively new, but Callum wanting him to be there right now confirms his hopes that Callum is in this just as much as Ben is. 

“If you’re sure, then of course I will.” 

Ben places a kiss on Callum’s forehead, careful not to disturb his camera-ready hair, that he spent so much time on earlier at home. He can just about make out Whitney huffing in front of them, clearly not happy with this change of plans, but he’s completely focused on Callum next to him right now. Ben isn’t sure where he’s taking all the strength for this very public coming out from, he himself certainly couldn’t have done it when he came out years ago, but he’s infinitely happy for it. And insanely proud. 

Their tender moment is interrupted by the arrival of Callum’s coach and captain and Ben can’t help but think that Jay would probably faint at being in the same room with all of them, but Ben himself really couldn’t care less right now. He’s way too keyed up at the moment. 

Whitney shoos him into the interview room a second later, giving him only a brief moment to catch Callum’s gaze and give him a reassuring nod, ushering him to one of the two empty seats in front of the little podium. The room is already filled with reporters and camera crews and he can see a few curious reporters snapping pictures of him with their phones, probably posting on Twitter about Callum Highway’s alleged lover being at what’s only supposed to be a regular team press conference. 

From her place beside him, Whitney is glaring daggers at them, looking like she’s about one photo away from filing a cease and desist order, when the door to the backroom opens and the three men filter out onto the little podium, taking their seats behind the three microphones that have been set up beforehand. Callum’s sitting in the chair closest to him and he catches Ben’s eyes once he’s settled, giving him a small, barely-there smile. 

There’s a sea of camera flashes they have to sit through before they can even start the press conference and there’s a while where the coach and the captain only talk about the next game and strategies and other stuff Ben completely tunes out. No matter how much he loves Callum, he’ll probably never be able to sit through these things and feign any believable interest. 

And it’s not just the disinterest that keeps him from paying attention; it’s also the anxiousness and when they finally open up the conference for questions from the countless reporters, he’s surprised that the first few questions are actually about the team or the next game and not about the private life of one of their players. It must be because they’re actual sports reporters. 

But the second a short, blonde-haired woman introduces herself as a reporter from the Sun, he knows that this is it. This is Callum’s big moment. 

“Gentlemen, any comment on the rumors regarding an alleged gay affair involving Mr. Highway?” 

Callum exchanges a glance with his coach, who gives him the nod to take the question and he swallows once before grabbing the microphone in front of him with a slightly shaky hand. 

“Um, yes, I want to address these rumors. It’s true, I’m gay.”, he pauses to look back towards Ben and at catching each other’s eyes, Ben can only give him an encouraging smile that Callum returns easily. “I’m also in a committed relationship, not just having an affair, and I’m very much in love with him. I didn’t mean for anyone to find out about it, but it happened. If falling properly in love with someone is going to cost me my career now, then I have to accept that. I hope it doesn’t, but even if it does then I hope that I’ll at least encourage others to be true to themselves as well and to be honest - hopefully sooner than I was. I’m sorry for hiding and lying about who I am. I’m sorry to my teammates and the fans and my coaches. But I’m not sorry for who I am or who I love. And I won’t be anymore. So, um, I guess that’s me addressing that. Thank you.” 

Ben wants to scream. He wants to get up and crash the conference, gather Callum in his arms and kiss him stupid, because he’s so unbelievably proud of him and how he just made a tiny bit of history right here in the middle of Walford. And Ben fucking loves him, so much, and he will never let him go again, not if he has any say in it. 

He’s a little surprised that there are no further questions about the topic, but he guesses that Callum’s little declaration has said everything that needs to be said. Beside him, Whitney is grinning like a proud mother hen and she gives Callum a tiny thumbs up when he dares to look away from Ben and at her. 

It’s another excruciating ten minutes before everything is over and Ben can see Callum again, away from any prying eyes or television cameras. And when he finally, finally, has Callum in front of him again, Ben is helpless to do anything but take his face into both of his hands and press a hard kiss onto his lips. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you. And I’m so in love with you.” 

Callum huffs out a little laugh, his breath hitting Ben’s lips where they’re still only centimeters apart from each other, and wraps his arms around the small of Ben’s back. He’s looking at Ben with so much love and pride in his eyes and Ben would really love to capture this moment and what they’re both feeling right now in a jar and keep it for when times are tough or when Callum is inevitably going to struggle and doubt his actions from today. 

He didn’t think he’d ever have this again with someone, this unconditional love and being someone’s first choice, and a couple of days ago he was sure that he’d never have this with Callum ever again either, but now that they’re both huddled here together, in a little backroom in a football training center not too far away from his home, he’s so thankful for Callum and for the way he broke down every wall Ben had built around his heart, unearthing everything Ben’s tried so long to keep locked away. 

He reckons he was bound to fall head over heels in love with Callum the second he stepped foot into the Albert that night. 

“Are you done here? Cause I really want to buy you a pint in celebration, first active, openly gay player in the Premier League Callum Highway.” 

Callum seems to preen a little at the title and it must only sink in slowly for him that he really did make history today. There’s a blinding smile making its way onto his lips and the look on his face when he’s looking down at Ben is one of utmost appreciation. Ben’s not really sure for what, if it’s for being here with him, for giving him the littlest push in the right direction to come out publicly or for something as simple as taking the time to read up on gay football players. 

Whatever it is, it makes Callum’s smile turn teasing and one of his hand comes around to run over Ben’s jaw, settling on his cheek, thumb brushing back and forth over the skin. 

“Look at you looking up football facts. You becoming a fan after all?” 

Ben shakes his head with vigor but there’s a small smile fighting against his tries to look serious, ruining any pretense. He doesn’t think he’ll ever become someone that could be considered a fan, but he reckons there’s certainly going to be a lot of football games and talk in his life from here on out with Callum as his boyfriend. It’ll probably dominate every conversation Callum and Jay are going to have once they’re introduced to each other. 

He’d say he’s dreading that moment but in reality, he can’t wait for it. Can’t wait to walk around the square with Callum by his side, to go to the pub with Callum, Jay and Lola all huddled around a table, to spend Christmases and birthdays together in the future and to maybe even go to some of his games to cheer him on from the sidelines. 

“Yeah, fat chance.” 

Callum chuckles softly before his other hand joins the one that’s already holding Ben’s face in it, leaning down to capture Ben’s lips in a deep kiss, because he can do that now without fear niggling in the back of his mind. Ben is eager to kiss him back, wasting no time in pulling Callum even closer into his body. 

He’s sure that there are reporters with cameras and microphones just waiting for them outside, possibly for the next few days until a new story breaks and they’re forgotten about again, and Ben could really do without all the attention on him or them but this isn’t about him. 

He chose, promised even, to stand by Callum and to support him no matter what, so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. And there’s no one he’d rather do it for than Callum. Because Callum has not only chosen himself today, but he has also chosen Ben; has chosen _them_. It’s enough for Ben to know that this is it with Callum. This love.

Maybe, probably, definitely forever.

**Author's Note:**

> so, uh, ben mitchell as a football wife, huh.  
> i'm very curious about the response to this so please, leave a kudos or a comment if you liked it.


End file.
